Looking at the box of get-well gifts filled you with delight. To the point where your eyes get a little damp.

During your foster home days, you didn’t even dream of getting this much attention. It’s just otherworldly and something that only existed on TV.

Maybe this is why Mettaton loves his fans so much?

You hugged the box. Mom and Dad chuckled at your actions.

“Aww that’s cute,” said Mom.

“It never gets old,” Dad added. “A thousand years ago or now, receiving wishes for good health still warms my heart.”

You grinned ear to ear as you checked the contents, identifying the creator of each card through their design.

Snowy just had to include a snow-related pun in his. And Monster Kid added a drawing of themselves on one of the petals. Those were some of the bits and pieces of children’s creativity that flowed free.

“How are you feeling now, my child?” Mom asked. She looked too worried for something so simple.

You tried to find some words to describe it. The insides of your ears itch all the way to your throat. At the same time you were between too hot and too cold.

Long story short, it was uncomfortable… But the medicines helped you feel better.

“It’ll all be fine, Toriel.” Dad tried to reassure Mom. “The doctors found nothing serious. It’s curable.”

Chara died from buttercup poisoning. It took you a few resets to stir enough curiosity to find out their exact effects.

A part of you regretted reading the symptoms to this day.

Knowing this, you understood why your monster family was extra anxious about your illness.

“What’s this?” Mom tried to read the clipboard hung at the end of the bed. Her brows scrunched at the complicated words.

Dad explained, “They’re notes. Sans explained that there are multiple varieties of antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs, so the doctors need to record which works best. And to observe for any allergic reactions.”

Your Mom almost slammed the clipboard on your bed desk as if Dad had made a horrible mistake.

“P-please don’t worry,” he said. “Frisk doesn’t have any allergies, nor their parents had a history of them. The records are all standard operating procedures.”

“Parents?”

“Yes. According to Miss Caraway, Frisk was born in this very same establishment. Their parents’ records were kept despite their passing for their child’s sake.”

You nodded to Mom. It surprised you a ton too. Maybe it’s fate that you once lived so close to Ebott’s borders?

“Hmm…” Mom pondered. “Wouldn’t that mean your human parents, and thus Cenna, once lived in this city too?”

Possible. You saw quite a bit of apartments on the way to the hospital. Then, there were the suburbs around the edges too.

Again, your goat mother became lost in thoughts.

“Is there something wrong, Toriel?” Dad still loved Mom despite her constant rejection.

Mom frowned a bit. “N-nothing. It’s just… I feel a bit guilty for thinking ill about her. She would've made a great sister figure for Frisk if they grew up together.”

“…I wish…” she said, “Our son had someone as mature.”

Maybe if ‘that someone’ thought through their actions better, the whole tragedy could have been avoided.

You wondered if one day you could find a way to travel back to the time when Asriel was still alive, warn him about the buttercup plan, and show Chara that humans are not all messed up.

It was an impossible dream, though. The date was long before you were born, and by logic your powers shouldn’t be able to take you back before your existence.

It’s dinner time. Your parents made way for the nurse to put the tray down. He recognized your parents from the internet videos, and happily said hello to them. You were relieved that he was one of the supporters.

The standard hospital food was… bland: both in looks and taste. It’s not whetting your already diminished appetite. Your meal today consisted of baked chicken, peas with dill, and a helping of mashed potato.

You missed Mom’s cooking already.

Then, Sans appeared to your rescue. He walked through the front door with a bag from the nearest convenience store.

“Hey kid,” he wriggled his brows. “Heard you’re having some ‘bare-bonemeals’. So, I got you some pudding to liven things up.”

Yay for pudding! Just the thought of having dessert motivated you to finish your main dish.

“Want some ketchup for the chicken?”

Flavour! Glorious flavour! Your short skelly friend ripped a packet of ketchup and squeezed some of the tangy goop next to your baked chicken.

Mom furrowed her brows. “Are you sure it’s okay for Frisk to eat outside of the menu?”

“No sweat Tori,” he replied. “Frisk isn’t on any dietary restrictions. The caterer just mass cooked the stuff with all patients in mind.”

Your Dad let out a soft laugh as he patted your back. “If a bit of junk food helps them eat better, I don’t mind.”

…Due to the effects of the poison, back then, Chara couldn’t eat or drink. They would have died from dehydration if they didn’t bleed to death. Little wonder why Dad was so happy that you still had your appetite.

Mom and Sans continued to crack jokes while you enjoyed your dinner. By now you’re used to the corniness, so you just carried on eating with a straight face.

You noticed that Dad always kept Mom within view. He could never directly stare at her as it would catch her attention. But, whenever possible… he watched Mom live her new life.

Quietly.

Midway through your dessert, you heard a ruckus going on right outside your door. It involved a woman trying to yell her way past security.

Due to your status as the official Ambassador for Monsterkind, Aunt Cenna pulled in some security. Got you a private ward and stationed two guards in front of the door. Magi guards. If she didn’t tell you about it, you would have thought they’re normal people.

Then…

That voice. It was the woman who insulted your mom about her parenting skills. You hopped off your bed and placed a finger on your lip.

Be very, very quiet. You snuck to the door and planted an ear on the surface. The infection may make you itch, but it hasn’t dampened your ability to listen.

Sans joined you, followed by Mom and Dad. Before you knew it, you’re in a party of four eavesdroppers.

Aunt Cenna said, “Oh hey, look. It’s tomorrow’s problems today. Why are you here, Linda?”

The woman named ‘Linda’ made an audible huff. “I saw a suspicious-looking man in blue slipping junk food onto the premises! And you just let him straight into Miss-- Mister-- The Ambassador’s room. Aren’t you supposed to do your job?”

“‘Cause said suspicious-looking man is actually their friend…? At least he has more relevance than you. Well, mind telling me what brought you to this hospital?”

“My son is sick,” Linda replied. “Is it so unusual for a mother to bring her son in for treatment?”

“Nawh, totally not. But are you okay with leaving your husband and kid behind like that?”

“My son is a big boy and my husband isn’t incompetent. Better than a dodgy ex-police officer who sold her soul to witchcraft!”

Despite their public status, there seemed to be a bias against the Magus Association.

“Whoa whoa whoa, taking out the burning pitchforks already? That’s a new record.” Aunt Cenna replied. You could hear the sarcastic tease dripping from her words.

Your aunt continued: “I don’t think you wanna teach your son it’s right to insult others. ‘Cause, well, promoting hate is against the law, yeah? The police can concentrate on more important cases if there are less petty drama getting in the way. Speaking from experience here.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Linda gasped as if she had heard of the worst insult in the world. Talk about being melodramatic.

“That NERVE!” The other woman exclaimed. “It’s your sworn duty to serve the citizens, and yet you’re telling us to make your job easier?! We don’t pay taxes so you guys could loiter around and eat doughnuts all day!”

Dad gave you a questioning look, wondering if the woman’s accusations were true. You shook your head. Police stations were busy places. Sometimes too busy.

How did you know? You visited one before. One of your foster-mates got into trouble with the law, and for some reason the police wanted to talk to all the kids.

It was absolute chaos in there. Parents argued amongst each other, while their children screamed at the top of their lungs like it were a playground. They make Papyrus seem as quiet as a lamb.

“Oookay,” Aunt Cenna responded. You imagined her lifting both arms in the air in a mock surrender. “Whatever you say, madam. Just don’t come crying at the lockup if your son becomes a crime statistic. On the wrong side.”

That burn.

That. Burn.

Needless to say, that Linda lady was far from happy. Her continued fuming prompted the guards to escort her away.

It’s your cue to hurry back to bed. You, Mom and Dad had to sneak the old-fashioned way, while Sans did his teleporting thing. How unfair.

Aunt Cenna opened the door to find the four of you trying to act innocent. You and Sans got the straight-face act down to an art. Mom? Close enough. Dad, however, had a very hard time trying to hide his funky smile of guilt.

Well, your aunt saw through the act. “Pfft. Oh c’mon folks, ya don’t need to act all coy around me. Linda is a satire goldmine. I’ll never pass up a chance to argue with her.”

Mom chuckled a bit. “She’s… quite a woman. Do you know her?”

“Yup,” answered Aunt Cenna. “Classmates from fourth grade onwards. Believe it or not, she never changed. Always complaining. If it ain’t about school stuff, it’ll be your clothes. If it ain’t your clothes, she’ll whine about your behaviour. There’s no pleasing that lady.”

“But she’s married.”

“That’s the mystery of the century, if you ask me.”

Dad proposed another scenario: “I believe that despite her sharp tongue, she had good points that only her loved ones will know.”

Maybe. You hoped so. Otherwise you wonder how long things will last before it turned into a divorce case.

Aunt Cenna sighed. “Guess so. Considering my relationship with her, I don’t think I’ll ever live to see her good sides. I’m more worried about her son though.”

Why? You asked.

“Let’s just say that… I’ve seen quite a fair bit of kids gone twisted. All expectations and no love erodes someone faster than strong acid.”

She continued. “For her son’s sake, I hope Linda ain’t like my bio parents. You see, they used to beat the hell out of me for whatever reason that pissed them off that day. Yelled about me being useless and annoying. I thought being black and blue was a normal fact of life.”

You clenched the edges of your blanket, crumpling them under your fingers. So that’s what she meant by ‘my parents weren’t good people’.

“Very sorry to hear that,” Dad frowned with sympathy.

“Eh, it’s nothing to me now,” the other lady shrugged. “I don’t remember much of the pain anyway. I was like what, six? Seven? Social Services got me out. Then, my uncle’s wife moved me to Frisky’s home not long after. Their loving care made me forget all about the bad times.”

Aunt Cenna reached for her special double-sided pocket watch and fiddled with it. You noticed a soft, nostalgic warmness on her face.

“Frisky’s parents saved me in more ways than one,” she said. “I owe them lots. That’s why I swear to keep their kid safe and healthy.”

Despite everything, Aunt Cenna watched out for you. No wonder Mom’s embarrassed: she must have felt that she had mistreated her out of prejudice. Doing that made her no better than Linda.

You told your aunt that you’re sorry.

“For what?” she raised her brow. “Being suspicious about me?”

Nod.

Your aunt burst into laughter and rubbed the top of your head. Goodbye neat hair.

“Nawh, ya musn’t be sorry about that at all!” she said, “I’d be waaaaaay more concerned if everyone was fine and dandy after my big intimidation act. Seriously. ‘Cause I would have reacted the same. Protecting you is proof that your family love you lots.”

“Never forget that.”

The last three words were heavier than the other. With all the time-loops going on, it’s far too easy to take your loved ones for granted.

You promised your aunt that you will remember.

At ten at night, visiting hours were over. Again, only your aunt could stay overnight in the pediatrics ward on a legal basis. Everyone else was considered ‘Visitor’ and thus had to leave.

Aunt Cenna still hadn’t transferred the guardian rights to your monster parents. According to Mister Jonah, that’s a wise move. Just having a human name with a strong backing was enough to deter most wannabes from filing a dispute. Nobody wanted to waste time on trivial red tape.

You hope.

Mom fussed over you to the very last minute, making sure you had your necessities in place.

Toothpaste? Checked.

Toothbrush? Checked.

Dental floss? Checked.

A change of socks and underwear? Checked and double checked.

Dad tucked you to bed. Sans does his… Sans thing. Which was just a whole lot of observation on the Dreemurrs. Right after they left, he winked at you and said he’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe with more friends, depending on Papyrus’ condition.

Once they’re gone, the quietness reminded you that you had a fever high enough to be warded. You started to feel tired and sore.

The nurses and doctors checked up on you under Aunt Cenna’s supervision. The male nurse that served you dinner helped paste one of those cooling pads on your head. You took another dose of your medicine, and had some ear drops to soothe the itch.

Good news: the fever didn’t go up.

Bad news: it didn’t go down either. More observation required. They hoped that the blood test results would be done by the night shift guys. Or else you will have to wait until Monday.

Your aunt encouraged you to sleep. She had work to do, and she didn’t want to bother your recovery. So she left the ward to let you rest.

With nothing better to do, you tried to sleep.

“My village was full of humans like Linda, you know.”

Your eyes snapped wide open.

That strong, otherworldly child-like voice. It resonated between your ears, echoing from the interiors of your skull.

You dare not try to turn around in your bed.

Because you knew if you did, you would have seen THEIR face.

Chara's spirit sat on the edge of the bed, in all their green-striped glory.

“Irritating. Hypocritical. Arrogant. Always thinking they’re right. They’re practically begging to be hated. Admit it. You know how I feel.”

Ignore them long enough and they’ll go away. The last time you listened to them, Chara convinced you to start killing. Maybe, just maybe, the grief of others would be the answer.

A small sacrifice for the greater good, right? You’ve never been more wrong in your short life.

“Still employing that tactic, I see.”

Chara sighed at you.

“Let’s talk about the Surface.” They said, “Have you heard of this phrase: ‘man’s best friend?’ Who do you think it applies to? Or rather, ‘what’?”

You know the answer, but you refused to respond.

Chara filled in the blanks for you.

“A dog. Sometimes a horse. Or maybe a cow. Depending on where you live. It can describe all the animals in the world, yet it never applied to one: a human.”

“A pet gets more love than humanity’s own offspring. What epiphany, isn’t it? If I have a penny for every person doting on their cat or dog, I’d be rich enough to buy a nation!”

You’ve heard it.

You’ve seen it.

You understand where Chara came from.

You were once less loved than a pet.

“But have you ever wondered why a reject from a different species can replace you? Is it because they’re cute? Endearing? Hmm, those traits help cement feelings… but let me tell you the real reason.”

Chara’s cold, dead breath brushed against your ears.

“Because it makes them feel wanted. Loved. Without the fear of rejection. Without the fear of betrayal.”

Their words alone made you shiver. You pulled up the blanket over your neck and curled tight.

“Don’t you think it’s the same with your monster friends? They think differently compared to humans. So child friendly. So innocent. So naive. Isn’t that right, partner?”

“But the outside world is not like that. It’s complicated. Fraught with hidden agenda and selfishness. So corruptible. So deceitful. Sooner or later, your lovely friends will become tainted just like Asriel.”

“Just like me.”

An icy touch brushed your hot forehead. It didn’t feel anywhere as nice as Sans’. This cold stung with the bleeding bitterness of a troubled child.

“Shall we go back to simpler times, partner?” asked Chara. “Leave this complicated world behind. Don’t forget, you still have one more path to try. To investigate. To complete.”

“Can you really leave our game unfinished? Or will you betray me like Asriel did?”

That was the last straw. Anger filled your heart. You tossed the blanket aside and growled at Chara.

This would be the first time you’ve seen their face. You don’t know if it was their true visage, or a twisted mirror of yourself.

You saw a child who looked almost like you. Almost. Their skin was bleached, their cheeks were rosy, and they had this vacant smile to go with their blood-tinted eyes.

They look happy, even though you know they’re not.

You told Chara to shut up about Asriel. He can be called many things, but a traitor was not one of them.

His single, purest wish was to play with Chara again. His loyalty should never be questioned.

“Greetings.” Thus said the DEMON. “Glad to finally have your attention. Again.”

If attention was what they wanted, fine. They won’t get this for free.

You demand Chara to explain their true feelings about their family. Why go to such extremes? Why do they want everyone dead?

…Maybe you were a bit too threatening. Fortunately for you, Chara laughed it off.

“Have you ever heard of this phrase?” They asked. “Rest. In. Peace.”

You narrowed your thin eyes, both mortified and enraged by their implications.

“Why so furious? I state the truth: only the dead rest in peace. As long you live, you struggle. You suffer.”

“Why wouldn’t I repay the favour of my wonderful monster family by giving them eternal sleep? Their SOULS don’t remain. They don’t haunt like us human spirits. They certainly don’t have the Determination to persist.”

“Just one swift stab with a knife and poof, they’re dust. Reduced to nothing. Remember nothing. So very fragile. All that terror and hate was just ignorance. I’m sure if they were more… open minded, they would have flocked to you to die.”

…It’s too late to talk them out of it. They no longer had a SOUL to serve as moral compass.

Asriel eventually let you go because he regained the capacity to feel mercy for a short while…

Not Chara.

Not after this many resets either.

You had a feeling that Chara had this idea ingrained deep into their mentality long before they fell into Mount Ebott. If you must be honest with yourself, you once thought of these same concepts.

Still, that was the past; you're determined to prove Chara wrong in this timeline. And all the ones to follow.

They leaned forward to your face, too close for comfort. You smelled embalming spices mixed with the stench of dry decay.

“It’s useless. Useless, useless, useless, useless.”

“You’re just writing fanfiction. It means nothing. Nothing at all. The world around you is mere twisted sentimentality. Weak. Pathetic. Meaningless.”

You hold steadfast, refusing to give into fear or anger, or anything that'd fuel Chara.

Yet, they continue to smile.

“Hey partner. Whenever you want to go back to a time where your decisions mattered, call upon my name.”

Chara ran their icy finger down your jawline. They stopped at the chin, then lifting your head ever so slightly so they could stare at you straight in the eye.

“I’ll be there.”

With their blood-chilling message delivered, they’re gone.

You were alone again. Maybe in another timeline, you would have collapsed out of panic.

Now… somehow… you were surprisingly calm. Disturbed, yes. But there were almost no physical reactions to something so horrific.

You dropped yourself back into bed and pulled up the blankets as if nothing happened.

Tomorrow, you will start to think of how to give Chara their ‘eternal peace’.